


Huling Habilin

by conching



Category: Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mentions of the Artikulo Uno Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23627482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conching/pseuds/conching
Summary: Joven, per Paco's request, gives Paco's letter to Juliana.
Relationships: Joven Hernando & Juliana Piqueras, Joven Hernando/Francisco "Paco" Román, Juliana Piqueras/Francisco "Paco" Roman
Kudos: 2





	Huling Habilin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [figsoclock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/figsoclock/gifts).



> Originally posted on Tumblr in 2015, as my Heneral Luna Secret Santa gift for one of my dear friends.

Joven wasn’t due to wake up for another two hours.

He mentally cursed himself for being so jumpy and alert when all he had to do was make a house visit to a highly-regarded lady. She probably wouldn’t dare harm him soon as she knows who he, until that untimely day at Cabanatuan, was associated with.

_It stays,_ he thinks. _Luna’s men had always been alert._

He’s thankful for being awake at such an hour, nonetheless. Another hour in slumber would have warranted him another set of hellish nightmares. Nightmares that kept him up and in tears. Other times he’d just wake up covered in slick sweat and tears running down his face. He doesn’t even remember, at times, _but he knows they’re all of one thing._

He’s thankful for the time allowance, it meant that he had more time to condition himself and rehearse what he had to say to her. He wasn’t an ignorant fool who’s never spoken with a woman, but he wasn’t well-versed in breaking out disheartening news.

It was noon when he walked up to the porch of her quaint home. He could smell the unmistakable aroma of adobo from outside. He took one deep breath before calling out.

“ _Hello?_ Is anybody home?”

“Hold on! I’m coming!” A woman’s voice called out from the kitchen.

Joven waited patiently on the porch until a mousy woman emerged from the far end of the house and walked towards him, wiping her hands on her _saya_.

“Who are you looking for, sir?”

“I’m looking for a _Juliana Piqueras?_ ”

“I’m her. How may I help you?”

“I’m a friend of your la-” He cut himself off. “ _husband,_ Paco.”

“I see. You must be Joven!” She took his hand in both of hers and gently shook it. _She knows who I am?_ “Come in. You came at the right time. I just cooked lunch.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Had they met under different circumstances, he would have stayed for a lovely chat. “I can’t stay long.”

But his grumbling stomach gave him away. He had neglected breakfast again.

“Nonsense. Your stomach agrees with me,” He turned red as a tomato. “Is there anyone else with you?”

“N-none. I came alone.” She beamed at him before leading him to the dining area.

He looked around the house while she set the table. The house was very simple, faintly decorated, but it had a very warm and welcoming atmosphere. You can see the masculine hints of the _narra_ furniture sets, and if you look really hard, you would see the touches of femininity in every corner; the embroidered mantle, the light _kulambo_ over the bed, the floral carvings on the _tucador_.

Near the bed was a little pen, and inside was a sleeping boy of about two years of age. Joven sighed. _How will this boy learn the ropes to being a man? How will he learn to protect himself and his mother effectively? Who will keep him safe? Who will he look up to as he grows up?_

“That’s little Juan. He’s quite the spitting image of his father, don’t you think?” He nodded as he took a seat across her. “He’s only just slept. I’ll wake him up later for supper.

“He’ll grow up to be a handsome man, like his father.”

“That he will,” She passed him the rice. “Shall we eat?”

They ate in silence. The more that he warmed up to his seat and the more that he took bites of his food ate away at his wits. There was a nagging feeling that gravitated him towards the house, towards Juliana, towards Juan, but he knew it wasn’t right.

He may have not been her lover nor her husband, but he was going to break her heart.

_Soon._

“I’m going to tell you a secret, okay?” He nodded in between mouthfuls of rice and adobo. _“Don’t tell Paco just yet.”_ He must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

_“I won’t.”_

“We’re expecting another child. I feel like this time, we’ll have a daughter,” Joven’s smile failed to reach his eyes. “He said, if we were to have a daughter, we’d name her Carmen. _Beautiful, huh?_ ”

She waited for him to finish eating and proceeded to take his plate and wash the dishes. Suddenly feeling out of place, he followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the wall near the sink.

“You know, Paco told me a lot about you. Said you had a way with words, and that he was impressed with how you’ve handled being in Señor Antonio’s camp. I know that man has a _really_ short temper, but it doesn’t go the same way for his generosity.” Joven felt tears stinging his eyes.

“He was like a father to me.” “We share the same sentiment. Although, to be completely honest with you, _I can’t help but feel like Luna is his wife and I’m the snake in the garden,_ ” She laughed. “I may be Paco’s wife but I’m lucky he lets me borrow my husband for a few days.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When you marry someone in service, you have to accept that no matter how much they love you, you will never be the main priority. I love him dearly, what else can I do but endure?”

“But he loved,” _Damn it. Please don’t notice my slip-up just yet._ “ _loves_ you very much. There isn’t a day that goes by without him telling us tidbits about you; how wonderful of a wife you are to him, how great of a mother you are to your children.”

“That he does, Jose’s told me. He may not go home to me every night, but he’s never made me feel like I was second fiddle to his work. Sometimes, when he gets home to us, he’s too tired for me. I used to mind, but he’s never faltered with being a father to Juan, and that makes up for it,” She wiped her hands in her saya and touched his damaged ear. “I also heard about your attempt to man a gun when the camp was raided. How’s your ear? Did you lose your hearing?”

“No. _Well, not really._ I probably still have half my hearing on that ear.”

“Your hand?” She gestured at the angry wound on his hand.

“I can use it now.” “Paco told me it’s the hand you write with. I’m glad it’s alright,” She asked him to sit with her on the dinner table. “Look, I want to thank you, Joven. I know times have been very tough and challenging nowadays, especially because you’re in Luna’s camp. Paco wrote to me about how you have, even if just by a little, helped lighten up the mood among their men.”

“I haven’t done such a thing.” He has a bewildered look on his face–he didn’t expect to be patronized for his cowardice.

“No, but you _have_. Somebody young, like you, whose curiosity and thirst for justice and freedom shines through, has given them hope that this war is worth it. That putting their lives on the line so the youth will have a better place to live in, is worth it,” _But they’re dead now._ “You may not realize it, but you’ve helped ignite a fire so strong it can burn through all the cities amd provinces in our country, taking the Spaniards and Americans with it,”

_“I know you loved him, too,”_ He held his breath. “Thank you for taking care of him in my stead.”

_It’s now or never,_ he thinks.

"Look, Juliana,"

“I know, I’ve gotten too talkative, too nosy, perhaps. But you know what, Joven, the moment I figured out who you were, I knew you’re here on an errand of some sorts, so I won’t be keeping you any longer. _What has Paco sent for me now?_ ”

* * *

_“You speak in poetics,_ too? _”_

_“If you spend a lot of time with the General,_ his habits grow on you. _” Paco smiled at him as they rode the carriage to Cabanatuan._

_After a couple of meters, the convoy made a pit stop. Paco and Joven hopped off their carriage to stretch and take a breather._

_“Why_ again _is Señor Aguinaldo asking for the General to come to Cabanatuan?” Joven pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know, really. Look, between me and you, everything about this summon doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve voiced out my skepticism, but the General insists we go. He believes that this is an important matter, that it could mean life and death.”_

_“And we’re supposed to go_ blindly _as the president says?”_

_“As we’re told,” Rusca called out to the two. They were going to continue their travel. “Joven, I_ need _you to do me a favor.”_

_“I am in your debt, I’ll do_ anything _you ask me to do.” Paco shoved a letter into his vest._

_“Ask Jose for my address and make sure this letter gets to my wife. I don’t know how much time I have left, or if I’ll even get back to her alive,”_

_“Don’t say that!” Paco shoved his palm on his mouth to shut him up. “I’m being realistic,” He snatched his hand away. “_ Please _. Tell her I’m sorry I broke my promise.”_

_When the convoy continued it’s trail and into a shallow stream, one of the wagons broke. In his haste to reach the president, Luna had his two most trusted men, Paco and Rusca, ride with him ahead of his other men. Joven was left in the care of the Bernal brothers._

_Paco gave him one remorseful look before he rode off._

_He pocketed the letter in his pants, vowing silently to go through with the plan as he wiped away a stray tear._

* * *

“He asked me to give you this letter.” He handed her the frayed piece of parchment.

“Another one of his love notes?” She said as she took a glass from one of the cupboards. “I haven’t read it.” _Lies._

_“Light of my life, by the time this letter has reached you, I am most probably,”_ The glass shattered from the drop.

Joven hurried to her side to pull her away from the shards. He held her close as she dropped to her knees, crying while reading his letter. She let out guttural noises as she sobbed, her body erupting in violent tremors as she struggled to catch her breath. He let tears fall freely as he tried to stop her from crying.

Juan slept through the whole ordeal.

They sat on the floor for what seemed like an hour before her sobs turned down to irregular sniffles. She wiped stray tears away before squirming out of his hold. He followed her with his eyes as she picked up the pieces of broken glass.

“Well? Are you going to stay on the floor the whole day?” He gaped. “Close your mouth, _you’re letting flies in._ ”

“ _That’s it?_ Your husband’s dead and you’re acting like it doesn’t bother you anymore? It’s like you don’t love him at all!” She grabbed a knife and pointed it towards him.

“How _dare_ you imply that I don’t love him! You don’t know who I am and the lengths I have gone through to be with him, _so don’t you dare tell me that._ ”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” He said as he backed away from her reach.

“What _do_ you want me to do, Joven? _Mope around?_ I am fully capable of mourning him without being dysfunctional,” She lowered the knife and relaxed her stance. “My children, they _need_ a mother even more now that Paco’s gone.”

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

“How else am I going to do this?”

He uttered words he never thought he would find the courage to say.

“I’ll do it with you. I’ll be the best godfather your children will ever have.”


End file.
